HUCK:The Montana Brothers(20)

Hayes moved close to the two security men, his shotgun on them while  Albert scurried out from the office and relieved the bodyguards of  handguns they wore in holsters over their shoulders. Rick collected them  from Albert and stashed them beneath the bar. Huck continued, his face  an inch from Dobbs' bright-red visage.

"Left her black and blue. Black and blue bruises, almost busted a couple ribs, I mean you worked her over."

The men held by Hayes and Rick looked surprised by what Huck was saying.

"Oh yeah, your boss likes to beat up women. You boys on board with that?"

"Hell no," Amos, the white guy, answered. Lucky glanced nervously at Hayes and then back at Huck.

"Me neither," Huck said. "Too bad Belle isn't here now, she'd probably like the chance to get some payback."

That was my cue. Huck had left it up to me whether or not I wanted to  face Dobbs in person. My blood was boiling. I absolutely did.

I strolled out of the office and walked right up to an astonished Dobbs, slapping him hard across the face.

"You son of a bitch!" I spat the words at him. Huck chuckled and Dobbs  rubbed the side of his face. I'd never seen him look so furious.

"This is not over, Belle. This redneck can't give you what I can. I  loved you. I love you! It's not too late to come to your senses," Dobbs  pleaded with me. I thought he might cry.                       
       
           



       

"Dobbs, I got bad news for you. It couldn't be more over. Belle is never  going to lower herself to the likes of you ever again. And to make sure  you get my meaning, I'm going to send you back to Kentucky with a few  things to remember me by."

Huck was nose to nose with Dobbs.

"I've got a black belt in taekwondo, you trash. All you have are guns  and ugly. I'll hurt you, hurt your feelings, and take Belle right back  where she belongs," Dobbs was practically squeaking now.

Huck stepped away from Dobbs, toward his brother. "Hayes, let me see  that Remington." Hayes handed Huck the shotgun, which he then passed  across the bar to Rick. Huck walked out into an open area between the  bar and pool tables and removed his flannel shirt.

"Come on then, mister taekwondo. Show me what you've got."

Rick set his pistol down, and Hayes braced himself in case Amos or Lucky  decided to make a move. Both of Dobbs' men, however, sank onto stools  at the bar.

"What I did or didn't do to her is my business, hick. But what I'm about  to do to you is personal. I didn't see a hospital when we drove into  town. Hope they have helicopters out here," Dobbs removed his jacket. He  was nearly Huck's equal in size, and I knew he'd taken martial arts  growing up. I worried that Huck might now know what he was getting  himself into. Albert stood by my side and put a reassuring hand on my  shoulder.

Dobbs approached Huck, who had his hands down. With lightning speed and  accuracy, Dobbs landed two punches to Huck's square jaw and a kick to  his midsection. Huck stumbled back a step and spit, but then he laughed.

"Come on, hit me as hard as you did Belle, at least."

Dobbs responded with a flurry of punches and kicks. Huck deflected some of them, but made no effort to punch back.

"You can't say I didn't give you a chance, Dobbs," Huck said, wiping a  trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Dobbs looked surprised  and not a little bit worried that Huck was still on his feet.

Dobbs went to throw a big left hand, but Huck ducked beneath it and rose  with a tremendous upper cut, catching Dobbs on his chin. He crashed  onto a table and rolled to the floor. Albert's hand squeezed my  shoulder.

Dobbs started to get up, but collapsed back onto the dusty floor.

"Are we finished here?" Huck asked Amos and Lucky. Amos started to say something, but Lucky put a hand up to quiet him.

"Yeah, we're finished."

"Good. Get this piece of shit out of my bar. Remind him what happened  tonight if he ever has second thoughts about Belle, Whitmer, or The Side  Pocket. I have an escort waiting to make sure y'all make it out of the  county," Huck said, referring to Hunt. "Don't come back. Ever."

Lucky nodded, and he walked over to help Dobbs to his feet. Dobbs held his jaw and Amos examined it. "Yeah, it's broke, boss."

Dobbs stumbled toward the door, flanked by his men, where I intercepted  him. I stood in front of him a moment shaking my head, wondering how I  was ever blinded by his name or his looks. I reached up to put my hands  on his shoulders.

And drove my knee into his balls with every ounce of strength in my body.

Rick winced behind the bar, Hayes laughed, and Dobbs collapsed, howling.  Lucky and Amos pulled him back to his feet and helped him shuffle out  of the bar. Huck tossed the shotgun back to Hayes and motioned for him  to watch the door, in case Dobbs had more firearms in the car outside  and got brave.

Huck and I went to the office, where I used a wet towel to dab at a cut  over his left eyebrow and to wipe the blood trickling from his mouth.

"Do you think it's over? With Dobbs?" I asked Huck.

"Don't know. Don't care. He's the type with more money than sense, even  when he's broke. No telling. But we'll be ready for him if he comes  back."

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were sure to come. Dobbs  was finally gone. Hopefully for good. And Huck was here. Now and  hopefully forever.

It felt good to feel safe again.

It felt even better to be loved.





13





For the past seven years since my father had passed, I'd always known my  25th birthday would be a bittersweet day. Having legal access to my  trust fund and inheritance was also the final reminder that he was  really gone and was never coming back. Sure, I was now a  multi-millionaire. But I would have given every red cent of it back for  just ten more minutes with the person who had left it to me.

Despite how long I'd had been without Dad, this truth was still the  hardest and most bitter pill for me to swallow. No matter how much money  you have, you can't buy the people you love back into your life. If  only.                       
       
           



       

There hadn't been a day that had gone by where I didn't think of him.  Some days I would wonder if he was proud of me. Other days I knew he  probably wasn't. Especially the days I'd been with Dobbs. He'd never  have been the type of man my father would have wanted for me.

Most days, I just missed him, and wished I could talk to him about anything. Even the mundane.

For almost a year after his death, I'd requested that his cell phone not  be turned off. I'd text it and pretend he was on the other end of it,  reading all about my life. I'd call his voicemail just to hear the sound  of his voice. Especially on the hard days. I never wanted to forget how  he sounded. If I forgot, it would mean he was really gone.

I would never be ready to accept that.

In many ways, I'm still not. Grief is a life-long process.

Anyway, once my mother had remarried, she'd erased anything that  reminded either of us of his existence. She'd been more than ready to  move on, but I never was, and it had always been the root of a lot of  tension between us. It was truly why our relationship had started to  fracture.

But despite how truly wretched she'd been, she was still my momma. And I  loved her. Because Dad had loved her. More than anything. I could  forgive her, even if I could no longer trust her.

But with the bitter comes the sweet. Turning 25 also reminded me that  life was just beginning. And in my darkest hour I'd never have been able  to imagine what was on the other side of the sorrow.

Huck Calloway and a little town in the Middle of Nowhere, Montana. They  had both been my saving grace. And for that, I was grateful.



It had been a little over a year since the run-in with Dobbs and his  goons at The Side Pocket. Life had paraded forward as it always does,  and for the first time in my life, I truly felt like I'd found the place  where I belonged. It didn't mean I still didn't have anxiety about what  Dobbs might do. Or how my mother would handle me defying her. But I'd  learned I couldn't stress over these things if I wanted to be happy. And  being happy was the best kind of revenge you can get over the people  who have hurt you.

So I was determined to keep this life. It was too beautiful and too important to me to ever lose.



One day at the end of October, Huck and I basked in the afterglow of a  late afternoon spent making love. I watched him walk back from the  bathroom completely naked, that slow, swaggering walk of his, the part  of him that had filled me and given me the delicious ache in my core,  swinging between his muscular thighs. I wondered how much naked  cuddling, touching, and kissing would bring it back to life again.

He inspired a sexual appetite in me that was insatiable, it seemed.